


Intruders

by Viscariafields



Series: Leandra Hawke [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age II - Act 1, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: Fenris finds his mansion is not as empty as he'd like it to be.Act 1, Fenris is just getting to know the Hawke sisters.
Series: Leandra Hawke [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462840
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Intruders

There were voices in the mansion. Fenris had been out, waiting for nightfall before heading down to the stalls to purchase some hot food. If he had been up in the room he had claimed for his own while he waited for the slave hunters to find him in Kirkwall, he might not have heard the muffled sounds over the crackling of the fireplace or the whipping of the wind by the window. 

He padded down the dark corridors until he located light spilling from the cracks around a door. Hunters, burglars, whoever they were, they were unskilled, foolish, and they would not live long enough to learn from their mistake. Fenris unsheathed his sword, took a breath, and kicked the door open. 

The muffled sounds, laughter, he realized, immediately ceased. His momentum brought him over the threshold, his sword already arcing toward the unfortunate intruders, when he realized it was Hawke and Bethany in the room before him. 

The force needed to divert his aim threw off his balance, his body smashing into the table just after his sword did. 

Both Hawkes watched him with matching wide, brown eyes. Bethany’s mouth had dropped open. 

Hawke was the first to recover. "Hello to you, too, Fenris," she said from her place on the floor, “Lovely evening.” He scrambled to his feet, leaving the sword where it lay. Bethany sat behind Hawke on a chair, a bowl in one hand and a small brush that appeared to be covered in paste in the other. A blob fell off the end and landed in Hawke’s hair. 

“You _said_ he was fine with us using this room,” Bethany accused her sister. 

“What I actually said was--”

“You _know_ what you implied!”

“Well, I didn’t think he’d even notice we were here! And I certainly didn’t think he’d greet us with enough force to level a building. Lesson learned.”

“What _are_ you doing here?” Fenris demanded. Their squabbling along with the strangeness of the scene prevented him from beginning to process the fact that he’d almost murdered the two people in Kirkwall who had thus far shown him the most kindness. 

Hawke whipped her head around. “Isn’t it obvious? Bethany is touching up the roots of my hair.”

Fenris narrowed his eyes. Did she not understand that he had almost killed her? “What?” 

Hawke huffed. “Unlike you, I don’t have naturally pale hair. Or super-naturally pale hair, I suppose.” Fenris stared at her blankly. Bethany had finally noticed the glob of paste that had fallen on her sister, and was now attacking it with the little brush in her hand. “I dye it,” Hawke clarified, “Or Bethany does, really. She’s very good at it when no one is swinging a sword at her. She could do any color you like. If _you_ wanted to try a different color for your hair--”

“I don’t,” he snapped. He had almost taken her head off, and she was asking if he wanted to change the color of his hair? “I mean, why are you doing this _here_?”

“It’s very tight in Gamlen’s house,” Bethany said without looking up, “And he disagrees with the smell. Hawke said you weren’t exactly using these rooms… Well, what she actually said,” Bethany continued, yanking on Hawke’s hair and earning an annoyed yelp, “Was that you wouldn’t mind, which I took to mean you knew she’d been using your mansion as a storage room and weren’t about to bludgeon us to death.” 

By the looks of it, they’d been coming here for weeks. The cobwebs were gone, the hearth was stocked with plenty of firewood, and a pile of books sat next to an armchair. The table that he’d wounded with his botched entrance held a collection of weapons taken off the thugs Hawke was always attracting, along with poisons, lockpicks, and jewelry she had not yet fenced--things she would not want her uncle to get his hands on. He turned back to Hawke, who had apparently been very successfully evading his notice while carrying heavy objects inside of his home. 

“You dye your hair?” he asked stupidly. Pale hair caught attention, and he knew this not only from his own silver hair. Hers was striking. As tall as she was, with large, dark eyes set over high cheekbones, Hawke did not need gimmicks to draw the eye. He found his gaze constantly pulled toward her. But in her line of work, with a sister she wished to hide, it seemed foolish to alter her appearance to become _more_ noticeable. 

“Mine would be as black as hers, otherwise,” Hawke said, with a tilt of the head toward Bethany. Then again, Bethany was also a beautiful woman, but he had not realized this until he had spent an evening with her in the absence of Hawke. 

“When I was young, my mother cut my hair very short,” Hawke continued, “For a time, nobody could tell me apart from my brother. You can imagine how both of us felt about that. Bethany came up with the solution. She was only supposed to make my hair a little lighter, but it came out almost white. I liked it that way, so I kept it.” 

He supposed beauty was its own sort of distraction. Fenris wondered if he would have allowed them to finish their work on Hawke’s hair if she had not aimed her most charming smile at him. Certainly his enjoyment of the evening did not hinge on the beauty of his companions once he had sat down in the armchair with his supper and opened a bottle of wine for them to share, but it may have been the catalyst for him to stay in the room at all. Even as she sat on the floor with her head covered in paste, he found his eyes naturally settled on Hawke. In the firelight, he realized she had freckles.

For their part, the sisters seemed happy to spend an evening without their mother or uncle. They stayed long after Hawke had washed her hair of the paste and sat drying it with her back to the fire, both of them happy to have someone new to share old stories with. Having none of his own, Fenris contented himself to listen.

But then, Hawke had a way of drawing him out. He had no childhood memories or sibling squabbles to relate, but she got him talking about his time in Kirkwall. This naturally led to his opinion of HIghtown, and from there his assessments of his neighbors, their goals, their weaknesses, the flaws in their security measures. Hawke’s face lit up as he guessed at their probable vices. A couple months with little to do outside of Hawke’s excursions, and he’d had time to observe the nobility of the city. 

“They’ve all been in each others’ beds,” he noted, “Except for Lady Carrac. After a time, it became clear to me that she preferred the beds she found in the Chantry and the clergy who occupied them. Her husband touts her piety to all around.”

“No,” Hawke laughed, hand on her chest. “Next time I’m there I’ll be too busy wondering which one it is to properly ignore the Revered Mother.”

“You will know them by their scent,” he replied, “Clergy can’t display fancy clothes or trinkets from their trysts, but a bottle of perfume is easily hidden and the scent can be worn in the open. It adds to the game.” 

“So I’ll just have to sniff them all like a mabari. No, wait, I have one of those. Porthos can find them out for me.” 

Fenris turned to Bethany, who had been silent for a time. Her head rested on Hawke’s shoulder, her eyes closed. Hawke followed his gaze and flashed a rueful smile. “Don’t take it personally. I think it’s something about being the youngest child. As long as she feels safe, she can fall asleep anywhere. It’s no reflection on your conversational skills.” 

“If it were, it would be accurate.” He frowned. “After what happened tonight, she feels safe with me?” 

Hawke grinned. “You only tried to kill us for a moment, and then you stopped. That counts for something. Anyway, you know how it is. People try to kill me every day. If I held it against them, I don’t think I would have any friends left in this city.” 

Friends. He had used Hawke for his own ends, and offered his service in repayment. The truth was he needed the coin and she attracted jobs that he couldn’t. But friends… the last people who had treated him kindly had ended up slaughtered by his own blade. He had nearly killed her tonight. Fenris could not afford to have friends. 

“I should probably take her home,” Hawke said with a sigh, “But it was nice to spend a night out without risking the templars. She never complains, but I know the Hanged Man can be too loud for her. We are just simple country girls after all.”

An apostate and her mercenary sister who, in an effort to find an evening of peace, broke into the mansion abandoned by Tevinter magisters and claimed by an ex-slave with the ability to rip out hearts-- they were anything but simple. Their lives were complex, and Fenris didn’t need to add to it. They did not need a friend like him. Still, watching how Hawke coaxed her sister awake with some quiet words, Bethany’s small complaints and Hawke’s teasing nudges, he felt a sort of longing for an intimacy he didn’t remember. Perhaps he’d never had it. He turned his gaze away. 

“Are you going to tell anyone my secret?” Hawke asked as he escorted them to the front door. 

It took him a moment to understand her meaning. “That you are vain about your hair?” 

“That’s one way to put it,” she muttered with narrowed eyes, but she nodded. 

He assured her, “I will tell no one.” Both women stepped into the cool night air and out of his home. 

“Good,” Hawke said with a smile over her shoulder, “Because I set up a card table the next room over, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us this week. Everyone will be over around eight tomorrow. Goodnight!” 

Fenris let out a huff of air at her retreating back as Hawke guided her sister into the shadows. Closing the door, he considered bolting it, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. Hawke had a way of getting in places she wasn’t invited. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Varric: Why are we having card night at the spooky mansion with the terrifying elf?  
> Hawke: It's an adventure! And I owe people money!  
> ~~
> 
> He just has so many rooms in there. So many. I just kept thinking of all the things Hawke would do with those rooms. Anyway, after Bethany becomes a Gray Warden, Hawke doesn't have an excuse to come by as much and I think that set the relationship back a year.


End file.
